


A Problem With Vermin

by Tehri



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Childhood, Fear of Rats, Gen, Helpful sibling, Musophobia, mentions of corporal punishment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-04
Updated: 2018-10-04
Packaged: 2019-07-25 02:12:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16187936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tehri/pseuds/Tehri
Summary: The apple does not fall far from the tree in the case of Paladin Took. Much like his father used to be, he can be exceptional in the mischief he causes. But to go missing during a birthday party when the entire room is filled with people, that is something quite new even for Paladin...





	A Problem With Vermin

It was luck, plain and simple, that allowed Paladin to come with the rest of his family to the Great Smials for cousin Fortinbras’ birthday. He’d been rather exceptional with his mischief as of late, and his father Adalgrim had barely had time to let his temper cool between the different occasions; but despite the spankings, and despite barely being allowed outside the smial anymore, Paladin couldn’t quite keep himself in check. There was so much that he wanted to do, and his friends in Whitwell were always egging him on and telling him that he needed to be less of a baby.

But when the invitation to the Thain’s birthday party came, Flora, Paladin’s mother, argued her son’s case.

“We can hardly leave him alone at home,” she told her reluctant husband. “And sending him off to my family is out of the question – I’ll not let him go all the way to Michel Delving on his own!”

“We could leave one of the girls with him,” Adalgrim grumbled. “They’d not mind it.”

“Adalgrim Took, you know very well that our daughters would only say they don’t mind because you’d be ordering them to look after their brother,” Flora snapped. “They’d feel awful if we left them out! For goodness’ sake, he’ll be under Ferumbras’ watch the entire time, what could possibly happen?”

Paladin, who was eavesdropping outside the kitchen, felt rather inclined to grumble himself. He liked Ferumbras – he was very kind, and he certainly didn’t mind playing with younger children – but he was always under his mother’s thumb and would’ve been ordered to not get into any decent fun. It would be all well and good for his older sisters – they certainly knew how to amuse themselves, and they were never forced to stay with their older cousins since they knew to behave. But with both himself and his little sister Esmeralda being under ten years of age, they were generally placed with other younger children to be looked after.

But it was a relief to Paladin all the same to hear his father finally relent and agree that he could come along. Being alone at home would not have been fun at all, and he wasn’t quite as fond of his mother’s relatives as he was of his father’s. And, though he was a little loathe to admit it, he would miss his sisters. Though Garnet, Citrine, and Diamond were a good deal older than him and considered themselves too old for children’s games, they loved their little brother and didn’t mind playing with him or keeping him company at all.

And when the pony-trap rolled up to the Great Smials the following week, Adalgrim turned a gimlet stare on Paladin and furrowed his brow.

“Behave yourself,” he warned the lad. “If I hear anything about you getting into mischief while we’re here, I’ll tan your hide so you can’t sit until Yule. Do you understand me? A toe out of line, and it’ll be all the worse for you.”

Paladin understood only too well. Of course his sisters had been on the receiving end of their father’s temper as well, but they were generally better-behaved than Paladin and received no such warnings; those were reserved only for him. He understood quite well what would be waiting for him if he did something foolish or caused any mischief, and after so many punishments lately, he was not particularly keen on getting on his father’s bad side.

And the party, once it got started, was perhaps not too bad. There were plenty of cousins to play with, and there was an abundance of food and drink for all. Ferumbras was as usual set to minding the younger children, and he was quite good at diverting their attention from any sort of mischief. He was a good storyteller, and he could be a good deal of fun to play with. But without any sort of raucous play – which was always impossible whenever Ferumbras’ mother was near – Paladin soon began to grow bored.

And a bored Took was not a Took that one should take one’s eyes off of.

The party was progressing well, all in all. Paladin had played with his cousins for a good long while, but had lost interest in the games and begun to watch from the sidelines instead. But he glanced longingly at the door to the banquet hall and thought of exploring the rest of the Great Smials. Sometimes during previous visits, when he’d been able to slip away from his mother, Ferumbras had taken Paladin by the hand and walked him through the passages and the different rooms to let him explore a little. That always made for a good deal of fun, Paladin thought, for Ferumbras knew the history of the grand old mansion and enjoyed telling stories about what he’d learned.

The lad glanced over at his older cousin. Ferumbras sat near the fire, surrounded by a gaggle of children and with Esmeralda on his lap, and was telling a story. No, there would be no tearing him away from his duties this evening. But perhaps…

Paladin glanced about the room again. Everyone seemed to be busy. He could see his mother and father in conversation with cousin Sigismond and cousin Fortinbras, though they were too far away for him to hear what they were saying. In the general din that came with a party among Tooks, no one was really paying attention to the children aside from Ferumbras. And Ferumbras was, as he’d already noticed, very busy.

Surely it would not do much harm, he thought, if he snuck away to explore for a little while. He could come back before they knew it and claim he’d only gone to seek a water-closet. No one would notice.

With a small pleased grin, Paladin slid off the chair he’d been sitting on and snuck over to the door. It was luckily not closed, though he doubted that anyone would have noticed if it was opened. And before anyone had the chance of turning their head to see him, he slipped out into the passage and hurried away.

It was dreadfully empty, he thought, and many lights were out. There was no need for them when practically all occupants of the Great Smials were in the banquet hall celebrating the Thain’s birthday. But Paladin knew at least the main passage that looped around the Smials like the back of his hand, and he scurried away along it, ducking behind the odd piece of furniture and occasionally peeking around corners as he went. He’d quickly come up with a game for himself, one suited for an explorer. He’d exited the banquet hall and come straight into a goblin cave, he told himself. It was a little silly, perhaps, to have a goblin cave with an entrance to the banquet hall, but that made it all the more important that someone ensured that the goblins would not come to hurt anyone.

Paladin had never seen a goblin in his life, and no stories he’d heard knew to tell more than that they were frightfully ugly and had yellow eyes and sharp teeth. That alone was enough to conjure up horrific images in his head, and he had no wish to run into a goblin. So whenever he thought he heard footsteps, he would hide and wait for them to fade. No, no goblins would be catching him. But if he was being tracked, he could lead them away from the banquet hall, away from his family. He’d be protecting them.

But he couldn’t simply wander about. Sooner or later, the passage would lead him back to the banquet hall. No, he would need a place to hide for a while, to throw the goblins off. And Paladin knew exactly where to go.

When exploring with Paladin during a previous visit, Ferumbras had shown the lad a room that was not often used; the armoury. It lay a little to the side, shunted off on the southern end of the smials, and hardly anyone came there unless they had to. Of course the weapons kept in there were kept in good condition, but they did not need much seeing to when they did not see much use. But Paladin had thought it was a splendid room, filled with hiding spots to use. The only issue was the door.

It was quite a large and heavy door, and Ferumbras had told his little cousin very gravely that he should absolutely under no circumstances push it entirely closed. It was just a little too large for the doorframe and could easily get stuck, and there were plenty of stories of hobbits who had forgotten that fact and gotten stuck in there. Back then, Paladin had listened; Ferumbras was a very clever hobbit, after all, and was only looking out for his little cousin.

But as he snuck there now and slipped into the room, Paladin decided that he had after all gotten a lot stronger since that visit. He pushed the door closed, smiling brightly when he heard the latch click. He’d been five last time he was in there, and now, at the age of eight, he felt certain that he would be able to pull the door open again if he should need to do so. After all, he was older now, and much bigger than he’d been back then.

As he turned around, he surveyed the room with an air of satisfaction. It was quite dark, as the only light came from a dusty window quite high up on the wall. But it looked just as he remembered it, and there would be plenty of spots to hide from goblins. Here, no horrid creatures would be able to get to him, and he could defend himself if they were at all able to come into the room.

Slowly but surely, he went through the room to find the perfect spot. He’d just found a spot that he favoured, beneath one of the low oak tables, when a strange sound caught his attention and had him staring into the gloom in one of the darker corners. He recognised the sound, but hadn’t thought to listen for it here. A scratching, the sound of scuttling little feet, and the occasional squeak.

Rats. They had plenty of rats in the barn at home, for all that his father struggled to be rid of them. Paladin had never liked them, though he’d never been in a small space with them before. But they were large – for hobbits, of course – and he’d always been told by his parents to be careful and mind his surroundings if he suspected rats were there. Considering the size of hobbit children, a rat could be quite a dangerous thing.

Now, the sound made all of his confident bluster from before evaporate like a rain-puddle on a hot summer day. He glanced between the dark corner and the door, weighing his options; in his mind, he was still very firmly stuck in his game, and this was simply a new obstacle. But with the choice being between running through the passages towards the potential safety with adults and being stuck in a room with rats, it wasn’t that difficult of a choice to make.

He made his quick and quiet way over to the door, hoping that the rats would not pay attention to the noise, and grabbed the knob and turned it. He pulled. He pulled again. Nothing happened. He pulled and pulled with all his might, digging his furry feet into the floor – but nothing. It would not budge.

Another scuttling sound reached his ears, but much closer this time, and he looked into one of the corners near the door. Up on one of the tables, scuttling over a row of clubs, he could see a large ugly old thing staring back at him.

Paladin swallowed hard and slowly backed away from the door. The game was no fun anymore. This was very different from any game he’d ever played, and he considered briefly that he could be in worse trouble than what his father had threatened with when they arrived that afternoon. He glanced around him quickly, listening intently to the scurrying sounds around him. From the sound alone, there seemed to be a myriad of rats in the little room – and he was only a single hobbit. And as he thought that, another thought struck him.

No one knew where he was. No one would be coming for him, since they expected him to be where all the other children were. Unless they noticed that he was gone, no one would bother looking.

Little by little, stuck alone in a dark room filled with rats, Paladin began to panic.

* * *

 

It was a welcome break for Adalgrim Took to be able to spend some time with his cousins. Working on the farm may be something he was used to since childhood, but it was hard work all the same, not to mention all of the family-related issues that had popped up over the months. In Forelithe, his father had passed after a short time’s illness, and his mother had followed only a month later; grief, the healer had said, could be just as lethal as poison. And on the farm, the roof of the barn had needed patching up, the fences had needed fixing, one of the cows had managed to scratch up her flank against a sharp piece of wood somewhere, two pigs had escaped at one point – and on top of it all, Paladin had been an absolute menace during the past few months. So when Flora had insisted that they should let the lad come along to Fortinbras’ birthday party, Adalgrim had been understandably reluctant. But he’d given in, as always; there was simply something about that look Flora was able to give him that reminded him eerily of his mother’s no-nonsense-look, and it never failed to make him relent.

He’d made sure to give the lad a warning, and it seemed to have worked. The party was a delight, and there was no one coming to fetch him because Paladin had done something foolish. There was plenty of food and drink – especially drink, which Adalgrim rather felt that he needed. He was not the sort of tippler that some families despaired over, but there were simply moments when one needed to get absolutely plastered and forget everything but the pleasant warming sensation of a stiff drink going down one’s throat.

And Fortinbras, as fond of drink as he was of food, was more than happy to help with that. He’d been overjoyed to see Adalgrim and his little family and had welcomed them with perhaps a little more bluster than was absolutely necessary; after all, he did not get to see them very often, for all that he always made sure to invite them to different family functions.

So the opportunity to simply sit in a quiet corner of the banquet hall with a drink in his hand and a bottle of more nearby, speaking with Fortinbras and Sigismond about this and that, felt like a blessing to Adalgrim. It was sheer bliss. He didn’t have to worry about his children, his wife was very happy speaking with her friends, and he could simply breathe and not think about running off to perform whatever task needed doing next.

“So, Adalgrim,” said Fortinbras when they’d reminisced about the past and had spoken of the doings of their relatives for a long while. “How is the farm doing?”

“Stars above, do you have to ask?” Adalgrim groaned. “Spring was a mess with all the rains. Then summer was incredibly hot and dry, and it’s a wonder any crops made it at all. And now autumn is much the same as spring, and everything is a disaster.”

“You love it,” Sigismond snickered. “You’d drive yourself mad if you were idle at all.”

“So I don’t like sitting still all day, what of it?” Adalgrim sniped back, though there was no real heat in his words. This was a familiar little game. “Unlike some, I prefer to not sit on my arse while I get fatter and fatter with each passing year.”

“Oh, that hit me right here,” Fortinbras moaned, placing one hand over his heart. “Right here, Ad. You cruel hobbit, how could you?”

For a brief moment, Fortinbras and Adalgrim stared at each other before breaking into laughter. Sigismond only grinned at them and shook his head.

“Well, aside from everything slowly collapsing around you,” he said, “how is everything? I’ve not had a chance to visit you and yours since your birthday!”

“What would you like to know, precisely?” Adalgrim chuckled. “As I said, it’s been a mess. Between what I’m actually supposed to be doing and keeping Paladin out of trouble, it’s a wonder I was able to stay on my feet long enough to wander over here and collapse into this chair.”

The conversation flowed easily, and it wasn’t long before any troubles the three might’ve had were quite forgotten. There was something comforting in knowing that whenever they met, they could easily pick up the threads of whatever conversations they’d had last time they saw each other. It was a shame, of course, that cousin Bilbo wasn’t there; but Bilbo had disappeared during the early days of Thrimidge, and in the company of dwarves, no less. There was simply a silent agreement among the three that they would not speak of that. Wherever he was in the world, they would simply have to hope that he was alright.

Much later, when Adalgrim had been given time to consider the events of the evening, it had been far too peaceful for a birthday party among Tooks. Something had to go wrong at some point. And yet, it was something of a surprise when Ferumbras suddenly rushed over to them and gave them a jittery smile.

“You wouldn’t have seen Paladin, would you?” he asked. “He’s not with the other children…”

The moment his son’s name was mentioned, Adalgrim’s own smile was gone. Somehow, he wasn’t particularly surprised that it had to be Paladin who did something foolish.

“He’s not been here,” he said grimly. “Is he not with his mother? Or his sisters?”

“I already asked Garnet, and she and Citrine and Diamond have been in the same spot for most of the evening, and they’ve not seen him.” Ferumbras’ smile melted away into an anxious look. He was a confident lad, and that look simply did not belong on his face; but he cared deeply for his little cousins, and knowing that one of them had disappeared under his care had to be nerve-wrecking for the lad. “And Flora hasn’t seen him either.”

“How precisely did he slip away?” asked Fortinbras, raising an eyebrow at his son. “I believe you were asked to keep an eye on the children.”

“I did,” Ferumbras protested. “And they all know not to sneak off! But Paladin was playing with some of them, and the younger ones wanted me to tell them a story. I can’t have looked away for more than a few minutes, and when I looked back, all of them were still there – except for Paladin.”

“Where else have you looked?” Adalgrim got to his feet, reluctantly setting aside his drink. Had his cousin Bilbo been there, he would have argued that it was not seemly to punish one’s child in such a place when so many people were present, or indeed at all; but Bilbo was missing, and Adalgrim’s patience was rapidly running out. “He can’t have gone far.”

“I asked Garnet if she could look after the little ones while I looked,” Ferumbras said quickly. “And I’ve searched all nearby rooms, but he’s not there. I don’t know that I’ve done something to anger him, but he isn’t answering me when I call for him, and I couldn’t find him in any places where he might hide.”

“We’ll simply have to start looking elsewhere,” Fortinbras stated calmly. “Don’t worry, Adalgrim, your lad is probably quite alright.”

“I’m not worried,” Adalgrim growled. “But he ought to worry about when I find him.”

Finding him, as it turned out, was not so easy. With the help of Adalgrim’s wife and daughters, they searched the nearby rooms once more, but found nothing. And once they returned to the banquet hall, Sigismond had managed to not only disrupt the party, but also to convince the other guests to form small search-parties to make the search easier.

It was slow-going, for the Great Smials had many little nooks and crannies that needed to be checked. At first they’d thought to disregard a few areas, but Adalgrim told Fortinbras very seriously that Paladin generally went wherever he wanted; that he’d climb up a chimney was not entirely out of the question, or that he’d crawl into a tight place and get stuck.

But the longer the search took, the more Adalgrim’s initial anger receded and gave way to worry. For every room that turned out to be empty, that worry grew. Paladin was not a stupid child, not by any means; but he did have the very Tookish habit of going where he oughtn’t to go, which meant that he could be just about anywhere.

So when the search parties at last reconvened in the banquet hall, Fortinbras took Sigismond aside to speak quietly with him.

“Nothing in the west wing or the south wing,” said Fortinbras quietly. “I can’t for the life of me understand where he’s gone.”

“He’s not in the gardens either, or anywhere in the east wing,” Sigismond sighed. “We’ve checked the north wing as well. All playrooms are empty, there is no child in the pantries or the kitchen…”

Fortinbras glanced over at his cousin’s family. Adalgrim stood with his arms around Flora as he tried to comfort her. Flora had been nearing hysterics during the search, and her daughters did not fare much better. Esmeralda cried openly in Garnet’s arms, and Citrine and Diamond stood pressed against their elder sister with mournful looks on their faces.

“I don’t know if I’ll be able to forgive myself if we don’t find him,” Fortinbras mumbled. “But I can’t understand where he might be! We’ve looked just about everywhere!”

“You don’t suppose he could have left the smials altogether?” Sigismond asked doubtfully. “Gone down the road into Tuckborough, perhaps?”

“He would’ve been herded back by now,” Fortinbras groaned. “He’s only eight – folk would have wondered why on earth a small child like that was out on their own. Not to mention that most folks know him, and his family.”

“The hills, then?” Sigismond suggested, immediately wincing at the glare his elder cousin directed at him. “I know neither of us wanted to consider that possibility, but he’s a Took! He could well have gone exploring in the hills, if he got out into the gardens in the first place. You know Bilbo and I always found ways across the fence or through the hedge – it’s not that difficult for an eight-year-old.”

“Out among foxes and boars and stars know what else,” sighed Fortinbras. “Oh, what am I to do, Siggy? If he’s out there, chances to find him are slim indeed! How can I tell Adalgrim this?”

Ferumbras stood near them as they spoke and listened, though his mind was quite elsewhere; he thought of the different rooms they’d gone through, of all the hiding spots there were and of all places he’d used to hide in himself when he was a little younger. Paladin had loved to explore the Great Smials with his older cousin during visits before – he’d never gone alone, and he’d known to never do so either.

“No use,” Ferumbras told himself quietly. “We’ve looked where he could be. What about where he wouldn’t be? Where he wouldn’t go?”

He frowned as he said that to himself. If there were any places at all in the Great Smials that Paladin Took would consider out of bounds, it was places that Ferumbras had very sternly told him that he could not under any circumstances go to alone. He’d never broken that rule before. But what if, in that moment of Tookish abandon that so often came to Took-children of that age, he’d done so now? The list of those places was not very long – after all, there were not that many places that a small child was not allowed to go to. But with his father’s conversation filtering into his mind and with the thought of Paladin being in a phase where he would push boundaries and break rules, Ferumbras’ mind suddenly came to land on a single possibility.

There was really only one place that the lad had been utterly fascinated by, and which Ferumbras had all but ordered him not to go to alone, as it was much too hazardous.

“He’s not out in the hills,” he cried, quickly reaching out and grabbing onto his father’s sleeve. “Father, he’s not out there! I think I know where he’s gone!”

All conversation in the room suddenly stilled, and Ferumbras was uncomfortably aware of all the eyes on him. But with Paladin possibly being stuck somewhere, he couldn’t afford to retreat into his shell this time.

“Out with it, then,” said Fortinbras gently. “Where do you think he is?”

“The armoury,” Ferumbras answered; and as soon as he spoke those words, he felt as though a stone settled uncomfortably deep in his gut. “Oh stars above, the door! Father, the door, it gets stuck – it closes like it ought, but then it gets stuck, so we never close it properly, remember? If Paladin closed it, he’d not be able to get it open again!”

Fortinbras turned the statement over in his head for a moment; they’d searched the entire south wing, but had disregarded the armoury with the thought that a small child couldn’t get the door open. Then, with eyes widening in panic, he looked over at Adalgrim and saw the same look on his face. In a heartbeat, they both raced for the door, followed closely by Ferumbras, Sigismond, Flora, and the girls. If there was the slightest chance that Paladin was indeed in the armoury, they had to check.

As they ran into the passage that led up to the heavy old door, they could hear a very faint sobbing cry – easy enough to miss earlier when everyone had been calling for the lad. And with that cry ringing in his ears, Fortinbras raced ahead and threw his not inconsiderable weight at the heavy door, swearing loudly when it didn’t budge.

“Paladin,” Adalgrim cried as he raced up behind his cousin. “Paladin, can you hear me? Are you in there? Paladin!”

From within the room came no other sound than another sob, and Fortinbras felt his heart twist in his chest. He turned the doorknob as far as it would go and shoved at the door again. Still it would not budge. Ferumbras and Sigismond hurried up to him to help, all of them slamming their shoulders against the door in an attempt to get it open.

“I think it moved,” gasped Ferumbras, taking a step back to rub his shoulder. “Not much, but a little.”

“As soon as this is over,” Fortinbras groaned as he slammed against the door again, “I am replacing this blasted door! I don’t care what it costs, I don’t care how long it will take – I do not want this happening again!”

He took a few steps back and took a deep breath to steel himself. Sigismond and Ferumbras quickly moved out of the way as they realised what he was about to do, and as soon as they’d moved, Fortinbras launched himself forward and slammed against the door again with all his weight.

He scarcely knew what had happened when suddenly he heard a loud crash and found himself landing on a very dusty floor. He shook himself and pushed himself up to his knees, only to freeze in shock as he took in the scene before him.

Paladin was not cowering in a corner somewhere. In fact, the lad had climbed as high as he could possibly get on a shelf and was staring fearfully at something just below him. And on one of the tables, as well as on several of the sections of the shelf, and on the floor, were more rats than Fortinbras had ever seen in his life. One particularly large rat was seemingly attempting to find its way up to Paladin, emitting loud screeching noises as it climbed.

And before Fortinbras had a chance to react to what he saw, Adalgrim flew past him, cursing up a storm as he kicked at the beasts and tried to make his way over to the shelf. When kicking did not do much more than make those in his immediate vicinity on the floor scurry away or nip at his feet, he snatched up a wooden club from one of the tables and began to lay about him with it. Fortinbras hurried to get to his feet and went to help him, and Sigismond came rushing into the room after them and snatched the club out of Adalgrim’s hand.

“Get your son,” he snapped.

Adalgrim said nothing in response but only ran to the shelf; although he would later consider it a bit of a bad idea, he reached out as swift as a snake and swatted at the rat that was climbing up towards the top. It hissed at him, but scurried out of the way. And the moment it did so, Adalgrim held out his hands towards Paladin.

“Come on,” he said breathlessly. “Come now, lad, let’s get you out of here.”

Paladin’s eyes flickered between the rats that scurried away towards the shadows and his father’s tense expression, but did not otherwise move. He seemed petrified. Adalgrim felt as though his heart twisted in his chest, and he stepped a little closer to the shelf.

“Come here, Paladin,” he pleaded. “Your mother and your sisters are waiting out in the passage. Come here, let’s go now.”

It took a fair amount of pleading before Paladin reluctantly began to move and climb down. As soon as he was within reach, Adalgrim pulled him into his arms and turned away, quickly striding out of the room with Sigismond and Fortinbras following close behind him.

They’d barely gotten to step over the threshold before Flora rushed forward to get to her son. She pulled him out of Adalgrim’s arms, ignoring his protest, and hugged him close.

“My boy,” she sighed. “My darling boy. What on earth were you thinking? Why didn’t you just stay with the others? Stars above, I almost thought we’d never find you!”

Paladin didn’t answer, but clung to her like ivy and shook like a leaf. Adalgrim met his wife’s gaze for a moment and shook his head; he didn’t have the heart to scold the lad now, not when he was so frightened. Truth be told, he hadn’t felt angry for a good long while already, and he was only relieved to see that his son was unhurt – although clearly terrified.

Once he’d been carefully looked over by his parents and his sisters, Paladin began to relax a little. He still did not speak, and he clung to anyone who held him, but he did not look so pale anymore and had stopped shaking. It wasn’t until they were on their way to the guestrooms that he said a single word. He walked slowly, holding onto his father’s hand. Esmeralda, being carried by Garnet, demanded suddenly to be let down and hurried over to her brother to take his hand as soon as her furry little feet hit the floor.

“Why’d you go?” she asked curiously. “You promised you wouldn’t.”

“I was playing,” Paladin mumbled in response. He didn’t look up at either of his parents or indeed his older sisters or cousins when he spoke, and thus missed the relieved looks on their faces at the sound of his voice. “It was stupid. I was running from goblins, and trying to lead them away from everyone else. And I thought the armoury would make a good hiding spot. But then the door got stuck, and the rats came out…”

“I’ll go with you next time,” Esmeralda stated confidently. “I’m brave enough. And if you fight the goblins, I can keep the rats away.”

Paladin stopped short in his tracks and released Adalgrim’s hand, only to turn and pull Esmeralda into a tight embrace. He laughed suddenly and shook his head.

“Next time, we’re not hiding somewhere with a door that gets stuck,” he said. “Or with any rats.”

“That means the barn is out,” Esmeralda said solemnly. “What about the fields?”

“You can discuss that when we’re home,” Flora chuckled. “Come now, darlings. It’s late, and I daresay the two of you are quite exhausted.”

Once the youngest children were in bed and Adalgrim was about to leave the little room where Paladin would be sleeping, he was stopped by his son speaking in a very small voice:

“Are you going to punish me, father? For leaving when you told me not to?”

“Oh, my dear lad,” sighed Adalgrim. He stepped away from the door and came back to the bed, and he sat down on the edge and pulled the child into a tight embrace. Paladin immediately clung to him. “I was angry at first. But when we couldn’t find you, I was so very worried. I thought you could have gotten hurt, or that you could have disappeared.”

“You’re not angry anymore?” Paladin whispered.

“Only relieved,” Adalgrim promised. “Only ever relieved. But I beg you, do not sneak off like that again, and mind what doors you can actually open on your own.”

* * *

 

Life had turned out wonderfully, thought Esmeralda. There had been a few potholes along the way, of course, but what road in life did not have those? She had married not too long ago; she and Saradoc did not yet have any children of their own, but they did not mind that so much. There would be plenty of time, after all. And without a child to look after, it was easier to go and visit Esmeralda’s family all the way in Tookland.

Whitwell was ever as she remembered it. Her parents had been delighted to see both her and Saradoc, and Paladin and Eglantine had been overjoyed to introduce them both to their second child. It had taken a tremendous effort on Esmeralda’s part to not offer a comment on how Paladin seemed to be taking after their father in more than one way; it seemed he was well on his way to start out with only daughters as well. But Pearl and Pimpernel were sweet delights, and Esmeralda gladly took on the role of a doting aunt.

It was such a peaceful morning, she thought. Saradoc had been dragged along to the fields by Adalgrim just after second breakfast, and they were not expected to be back until the next meal at the earliest. Eglantine and Flora had taken Pearl and Pimpernel along to the market in the village. And Paladin, well. Esmeralda didn’t quite know where her brother was, but she knew he would make himself heard if he needed something from her. He’d always been good at that. As much as it had been a relief for both of them when she moved to Buckland to live with Saradoc’s family, she had missed Paladin dearly. He’d always looked out for her, for all that he’d teased her mercilessly when they were younger. Not that she hadn’t retaliated in the same spirit whenever an opportunity presented itself; she could be vicious when she needed to be, and no one knew that better than her brother.

Esmeralda sat alone in the unusually empty kitchen with a warm cup of tea in her hands and stared out through the window. It was such a beautiful morning; the sun was shining, the birds were singing. Somewhere in the smial, she could hear Moss and Bluebell, the lasses who helped out with menial tasks around the little home, speaking quietly to one another. It was so very different from the bustle of Brandy Hall, and for a moment she could scarcely remember why she had been so happy to move away from her father’s home.

Then a piercing scream shattered the silence and had her let out a startled cry and drop her cup. Tea spilled over the table and onto the floor, though luckily the cup did not break. For a long moment, she only sat there and stared at the doorway, expecting at any moment a ghost to appear as explanation for the ghastly sound. Then the same voice, familiar when she listened carefully, cried out again – and called her name.

She flew to her feet and rushed out from the kitchen, running towards the sound. And, much to her surprise, it came from Paladin’s and Eglantine’s bedroom. Moss and Bluebell already stood by the door, apparently debating whether or not they ought to enter. Esmeralda gave them a weak smile as she unceremoniously pushed the door open and stepped into the room.

Paladin, grown hobbit and father of two though he was, had climbed to the top of the wardrobe and sat there shaking like a leaf, eyes fixed on a spot in the corner near his wife’s dresser. If not for the look of terror on his face, Esmeralda would have laughed. As it was, she glanced from his face to the corner and put two and two together. There was really only one thing that could possibly have frightened him in his own home.

“A rat?” she guessed.

“It went under the dresser,” Paladin answered in a strained tone of voice. “Please get it out.”

Rats were common enough around the farm, especially in the barn. But to get one in the actual smial was something of a rarity, and one that had by Paladin been met with complete terror since childhood. He rarely entered the barn unless he had one of the dogs with him or if he knew one of the cats were in there already – but inside his home, he often had to ask someone else to deal with the little beasts. Esmeralda had helped him before she married and moved away, but as she hurried over to the dresser and knelt down to see if she could see the rat, she wondered briefly how the family had dealt with the problem in her absence.

It was a bit of a struggle to get it out. Eventually it took a little bit of help from Moss and Bluebell, a broom, a wicker-basket with a lid, and a brisk walk out from the smial and on to the treeline to get rid of the rat. And once she came back inside, Paladin had finally climbed down from the wardrobe and was frantically apologising to Moss and Bluebell for his behaviour.

“It’s nothing you can help,” Moss said with a laugh. “Stars know I react like that if I see a snake. Don’t you fret, mister Paladin, it just happens sometimes.”

As the lasses returned to their duties, Paladin turned to his little sister with a glorious shade of red on his face.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled. “I panicked.”

“As though I haven’t known that you’re afraid of rats since I was five,” Esmeralda snorted. “Are you alright? I almost thought there was a ghost in the house when you screamed, I couldn’t recognise that it was you.”

“There haven’t really been any rats inside for a while,” Paladin admitted reluctantly. “Father and Griffo went around the smial just after Pimpernel was born and checked where they could be getting in, and they sealed off a few holes.” He groaned quietly and shook his head. “I’m so glad that your Brandybuck wasn’t here.”

“His name is Saradoc,” Esmeralda reminded him primly, though she smiled all the same. “And he already knows you don’t like rats or anything that looks like a rat. Or did you forget the vole I snuck into your jacket-pocket before my wedding?”

“I’m still mad at you for that, thank you,” Paladin stated gruffly. “I don’t know what I did to deserve that.”

“You put a frog in my bed, that’s what.”

“I told you, I didn’t! You were getting married! Why would I do that?”

“How on earth did a frog get into my bed, then?”

“Window. Door. Someone else.”

They stared at each other for a long while before Esmeralda burst into laughter. Paladin’s gruff expression melted away to a smile, and he chuckled quietly.

“Thank you, all the same,” he said. “For getting the rat out.”

“Oh, what else are little sisters for?” Esmeralda grinned at him and took his hand. “Now, come along. I’ve got a cup of tea to clean up from the kitchen floor, and there’s more in the pot if you want some to settle your nerves.”


End file.
